A Dark Fantasy Spy

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I received a rather embarrassing request from an Englishman who had taken over the room. No, to call it a request would be an understatement; at this point, it was almost extortion.

“Tell me!”

“No, why should I tell you that? I don’t know!”

“That’s a lie!”

“…Seriously now.”

I somehow managed to fabricate a plausible lie, but alas, Camila clung to me tenaciously the more I tried to push her away.

Camila was throwing a tantrum that was beyond her age, a strange mix of spoiling and obsession. She was a woman who could get on her high horse over the most trivial matters.

In the end, I sincerely regretted looking at Camila, who was half-dragging at my clothing.

“…Fine, fine! Just please sit down!”

I shouldn’t have joined the Information Agency.

—

Episode 7 – Daily Life

Only after a storm had passed did peace finally settle in. It was but a fleeting peace.

Camila, who had been throwing a fit, seemed to have calmed down as she quietly sat in her place, staring at me, and I endured her piercing gaze in silence.

What to do…

“……”

I needed to organize my thoughts. I slowly rolled my weary head, reflecting on how the situation had gotten this bad.

First off, Camila knows who I am. To be precise, she knows who ‘I’ am, not ‘Colonel Frederick Nostrim.’ She knows where I came from, what I did, and so on.

Of course, Camila didn’t have the full picture of who I was, and I had no intention of boring her with detailed explanations, but the crux of the matter was that she was aware of my identity.

However, the issue didn’t end there.

It seemed that Camila had figured out my current status. She realized that I wasn’t just a Resident Officer suddenly appointed as a figurehead by an oracle but rather an Information Agent belonging to the military’s Information Agency.

This was entirely my fault. Camila was smart enough to be suspicious, and I had failed to foresee that. If I had been a bit more cautious, we wouldn’t have ended up in this mess.

But such regrets held no meaning now. There was no “if” in this world.

The important thing was that Camila had figured out my identity.

And now she was making unreasonable demands of me.

“…What do you want me to tell you?”

“Tradecraft. Oh, is that not the official term?”

“……”

What she asked me for was the skills and techniques used by Information Agents in the field.

“Why on earth do you want to know that?”

“Well, I got inspired after watching 007…?”

“……”

“I’m joking; I just have a strong interest in the Information Agency. If I had to say, it’s for curiosity’s sake.”

That was a refreshingly honest answer.

At that point, I decided to stop lying. I opened up honestly.

“It’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

Reasons? There were plenty.

“Do you realize it takes at least a year to learn that?”

First, it’s a matter of time.

“When you enter the Information Agency, they spend six months to a year just focusing on theoretical education and training. Domestic intelligence, foreign intelligence, intelligence analysis, counterintelligence, counter-terrorism, security, psychology, forensic science. And that’s on top of firearms training, parachuting, survival skills, poison techniques, and specialized training. They teach all that.”

The Information Agency teaches new recruits nearly everything they can use in the field. They don’t know in which department the new recruit will shine.

So, the agency tries to cover as much ground as possible, and this takes at least a year. That’s just for the basics.

Even during that period, they’re not just receiving education and training but are also taking exams. Written or practical, anything goes.

To put it bluntly, I had no confidence in teaching Camila anything like that. I’d never been a mentor before, and even if I had the ability, I wouldn’t have taught her.

“How many things are there to learn over a year? You expect me to teach all that? Be serious.”

Camila blinked her bright eyes.

“I know the theories too, you know?”

“What theories?”

“In England, there’s a university course in National Intelligence. I’ve taken that. Terrorism is even a core subject, and I’m doing psychology as a minor.”

“That’s part of the problem.”

The problem lies in the terminology.

“You’ve studied at university, so you know what National Intelligence is, right?”

“Yes.”

National Intelligence is, quite literally, a study of national intelligence.

It’s the academic field that studies the activities of national intelligence agencies, such as information collection, analysis, covert operations, and counterintelligence activities, as well as counter-terrorism, cyberwarfare, international organized crime, and the like.

While it might be an unfamiliar subject in Korea, it’s not surprising that Camila, attending Cambridge, would take such courses since America and England are the birthplaces of National Intelligence.

However,

“The terminology is different.”

National Intelligence lacks the kind of universally accepted terms or guidelines one might find in other social or natural sciences.

National Intelligence is fundamentally different from general social and natural sciences.

“I don’t know the terms used in England, and you don’t know the terms used in Korea. How can I teach you when the terms are different from the start?”

There were other reasons too, but to sum it up in one line, the conclusion was simple.

I couldn’t teach Camila.

It was practically impossible.

“I’d want to, but I simply have no way, no method.”

“……”

Letting out a light sigh, I concluded. Trying to explain everything in detail was giving me a headache.

Honestly, at this point, I hoped she would just give up and go away. I figured that a smart person like her would understand and leave it at that.

But surprisingly, Camila said without a hint of hesitation.

“Then, can you at least teach me some practical techniques?”

“No, you can’t.”

—

To be honest, I worried that I might have declined Camila’s request a bit too harshly.

It’s understandable; I had just fallen into a strange world and ended up on an adventure that wasn’t in my cards. In a way, Camila was practically kidnapped.

Whether she was smart or curious, falling into another world could only lead to changes in her feelings.

But after being scolded by someone from her hometown for the first time in months, I became concerned that Camila might feel hurt by my words.

But she didn’t.

“Good morning!”

“Uh… um… yes. You’re energetic today too.”

The next morning, as I reached the dining hall for breakfast, Camila greeted me just like any other day.

“So, are you really still not planning to tell me?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Camila came with her usual lively demeanor, making her unreasonable requests—not just that day, but the next day as well.

She who only spoke to me after work soon started to visit me in the mornings before I headed out.

Furthermore…

“Director, I must emphasize that there is no legal basis for our Ministry of Foreign Affairs to demand that Abas cover the expenses incurred from the Saint’s medical activities. It would be better for you to reach out to the consulate of the nearby cult for a smoother resolution…”

“Uh, Manager?”

“Just a moment… Oh, what is it, Pippin? Is it a message from headquarters?”

“No, it’s not that. The security room just contacted me. They say the Hero is downstairs right now?”

“……”

Camila had even come to the embassy where I worked.

Officially, only those with a valid purpose and thorough background checks could enter a diplomatic mission. After all, it is a facility with strict security. However, Camila had no means to prove her identity (since there’s none in England) and no clear purpose for visiting, so, technically, she shouldn’t be able to enter the embassy.

“Wow, is this where you work?”

“…Uh, yes.”

“Spacious!”

Who dares to stop her?

Whether it’s the ambassador, the head of the Information Management Office, or the Defense Attaché, no one could stop her. Thanks to that, Camila could meander through the Defense Attaché Office like an archaeologist searching for ruins, while I trembled, wishing someone would just kick her out, only to find glances from the Information Agents trembling in fear.

Morning, noon, and night.

All day long, Camila sought me out, subtly applying pressure. It was practically extortion. She didn’t have a knife, but I felt like I was being robbed.

Yet, I couldn’t just vent my feelings to anyone. My relationships were already a mess, and I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I don’t even have a good relationship with my family, so where would I go for advice?

“……”

In the end, I had no choice but to seek out an Information Agent.

—

The world is vast, and there are many oddballs. If you asked what defines an oddball, I wouldn’t be able to give a straightforward answer, but everybody can agree that there are plenty of them out there.

And there was one standing right in front of me.

“Why the sudden confrontation?”

“Just understand that I consider the Saint very comfortably.”

“Honestly, your mouth is quite alive… tsk…!”

Veronica muttered in annoyance, clicking her tongue.

“So what’s the deal? You came over so suddenly.”

“That, indeed.”

I really didn’t know why I came to Veronica.

I honestly had no idea.

Pippin, Jake, Clevenz, Leoni, Sophia, Dmitri, and then Older Sister Adela and Older Brother Jerry.

All of them knew my identity for certain. And I left them all behind to come to her. Why did I choose to seek out Veronica?

Maybe I unconsciously thought of her as the easiest person to talk to. Even though I knew full well that I shouldn’t think that way toward an Information Agent.

“…That’s how things went.”

I explained to Veronica everything that had happened so far, leaving out the details about me and Camila’s backgrounds and her request.

After hearing my mixed story of truths and lies, Veronica’s impression was simple.

“Oh, so that’s why you two have been hanging out together?”

Veronica lounged halfway on the sofa, puffing on a cigarette while teasing me.

“You’re the one who’s following Camila around.”

“I thought you two were dating….”

Dating? Who’s dating?

“Uh, well… Anyway, the gist of it is that our Hero wants to learn something from our Colonel, right? Whatever that is.”

The Saint tapped her ashtray, releasing a thin cloud of smoke. I picked up her thread as I recited what I had just recently thought up.

“Yes, she wants to learn magic.”

“Ugh, I believe our Colonel is lying right now. Why are you hiding something from us? Between us?”

“It’s true. Anyway, how do you even know if I’m lying or not, Saint?”

“Umm… intuition?”

Veronica trailed off with a chuckle, and I couldn’t help but smirk. She really was perceptive.

I really needed to either set a date to teach her something or hide her away as soon as possible.

Lost in such meaningless thoughts, Veronica, still sprawled on the sofa, suddenly sat up with a frown.

“…Colonel, did you just think of something rather blasphemous?”

“What…?”

“Hey…! Something feels off here….”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, just stop with the nonsense.”

“Why are you acting so excited today? At this rate, you’ll die of shock being around me.”

“Saint, as I’ve told you numerous times, please quit your nonsense-”

“Alright, alright. Can’t I take a joke…?”

Veronica, who had been sulking like a child, eventually put a cigarette back in her mouth and lay back on the sofa.

“Anyway, our Hero asked our Colonel to teach her something, and our Colonel doesn’t want to teach it. That’s the situation, right?”

“Not wanting to teach is more like it’s awkward.”

“Hmm….”

The Saint closed her eyes gently, tapping her narrowed brow with her finger as she fell into thought. With her looks, it felt like I was gazing upon a beautifully crafted piece of holy artwork.

…Except for the cigarette stuck in her finger.

“Um, I’ve got a good idea.”

“What is it?”

Veronica raised one corner of her mouth in a sly smile.

“Just teach her a little and be done with it.”

“What?!”

“Think about it. If someone wants something desperately, and I don’t want to give it all away, just giving them a little bit is also an option, right?”

“……”

“If you don’t know what our Hero wants exactly, just give her a little and end it. Or teach her something half-baked.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What did you just say…?”

“Teach her a little.”

“No, not that.”

“Teach her half-baked stuff? Anyway, just finish it up quickly. Don’t get tangled up anymore. Go look in a mirror. Is our Colonel even human right now? More like a walking corpse.”

At that moment, I felt as if the cosmos had enveloped me.

Yes.

Why hadn’t I thought of that?

I jumped up from my seat, and Veronica, startled, stretched out her hand, almost burning her finger on the cigarette she was holding.

– Thud!

“What the heck! Why did you suddenly spring up like that?! I nearly burned my finger off!”

“Saint, you are truly brilliant.”

“W-What the?!”

There was no time to answer.

I left Veronica, whose eyes widened in surprise at my sudden rise, and rushed out of the room to find Camila.

As soon as I dashed into the hotel lobby, I bumped right into Camila, who was trudging in with plastic bags overflowing in both hands.

“Camila!”

“Uh, Colonel?”

“You asked for some techniques, right? The practical stuff you can use in the field.”

“Uh, right…?”

“Want to learn it now?”

Seemingly dumbfounded, Camila didn’t respond. She kept blinking her wide eyes as they met mine, before pointing at the clock hanging in the lobby and whispering softly.

“It’s three in the morning…?”

0327 hours.

A perfect time to exercise a little.